


Dormir Sous un Orage

by Omnibee13



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Chaste Kisses, M/M, Rain, Rainy Days, Reading, Romance, Tags Are Hard, Titles are hard, sleeping, soft, soft soft soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 00:15:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29866242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibee13/pseuds/Omnibee13
Summary: As a storm quite literally rains on Dante's parade, turning our normally sunny devil slayer into a visage more suitable for blue, Vergil is a surprisingly calm presence..
Relationships: Dante/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60
Collections: Spardacest Server Fics and Art





	Dormir Sous un Orage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fugeoni666](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fugeoni666).



> A gift for the wonderful and much beloved fugeoni666, and their beautiful fan art here: https://fugeoni666.tumblr.com/post/639950785052065792/is-rainy-here-at-home-due-to-this-crazy-time-im

If looks could kill, and storms had souls, Dante would have vanquished the thunderstorm that had descended on Red Grave. For better or for worse, though, he had no such meteorological prowess, and he was stuck glaring at the rain as it battered the windows and fell upon the city in sheets. Frequently, the sky would light up and the air would crackle, and following that, the cacophony of thunder, the clapping of Zeus.

_Noisy, inconsiderate bastard storm…_

Dante was glowering out the window, his forehead pressed to it. Another bolt, another thunderclap, and he moved away from the window, else while he would continue to curse this squall that raged outside. There was next to nothing to do, inside the shop, outside of banal chores. The suggestion was made, off-hand and in sotto voice, that he could tidy his files, arrange his workspace in a more “mature manner.”

That comment was met with a snide remark of his own, lobbed directly at the man who had suggested it, almost as soon as it had left his mouth. If the receiver of previously mentioned nasty comment dislike it, he said nothing. His indifference to Dante’s sour mood just soured it all the more..

All the things he had hoped to do that day, had been hamstrung by the damn rain.

“You’ll get wrinkles.”

Dante frowned, harder, if that was possible, and looked in the direction of the voice that had cut across his pouting.

Long legs were crossed over each other, a book resting in his lap, and his coat around his shoulders, rather than worn properly, as Vergil lounged on the couch in the main part of the shop. Infuriating, to Dante, the rain and the storm complimented his brother, rather than seemed to damper him. Everything about Vergil seemed dialed up to eleven when it rained.

_He’s so annoying.._

A pair of blue eyes flickered over to meet their identical pair, and it was even more annoying, as Dante’s were narrowed in that same frustration, whereas Vergil’s were calm, half-lidded and clear.

“Huh?” Dante asked, though he had heard his brother quite well.

“If you keep scowling like that,” Vergil clarified, looking back to his book. “You’ll end up with wrinkles.”

Dante huffed a breath, looking back out the window, going so far as to thump his forehead against the glass. Petulant, perhaps, immature, most definitely, but storms and Dante had never exactly gotten along well.

“I had things to do today,” he muttered, and Vergil made a cajoling, acknowledging noise in return that raised Dante’s hackles even more.

“I quite like the rain,” Vergil said, as though having a light conversation. Dante lifted his head to scowl at him, crossing the room to lean against the back of the couch where Vergil lounged. He purposefully read over his shoulder, something that on a normal day might irk the elder twin, but it didn’t seem to faze him. “You’re restless, and it shows.”

Dante rolled his eyes and stretched his back, leaning harder against the back of the couch.

“And you’re just cool as a cucumber, huh?” He grumbled.

“I was actually considering perhaps retiring for a nap,” Vergil said, conversationally. Dante raised an eyebrow at him, scoffing.

“You don’t take naps,” Dante said, and he wasn’t wrong. More often than not, Vergil chased sleep, and was a frequent insomniac, nearly to the point where it was detrimental to his health.

“I do when it rains like this,” Vergil freely admitted, shrugging pale shoulders. The action made his coat slip a little. Dante watched while he held his book with one hand and used the other to tug the coat back around his shoulders, tighter, as though he were cold. 

Dante harrumphed again, and folded his arms on the back of the couch, leaned so his chin rested on top of them. He continued to read over Vergil’s shoulder, and Vergil continued to act as if Dante’s bratty behavior didn’t bother him. A pale hand turned a page, the silent pause stretched on as the elder Cambion read. 

“You should come around,” Vergil said, softly. “You’re restless. Just sit a while, perhaps the rain will relent in some time?” Dante scoffed at the notion and didn’t move. “Or, I suppose, you can pout like a child, over something that pouting will do nothing to fix?” Now the younger man just scowled. Vergil pressed on, paying no heed to Dante’s antics. “Come sit with me for a moment.”

Dante tilted his head at that. Very rarely did Vergil invite Dante to be near him. Usually they just came together as a tidal wave would come together with the shore – crashing and violent and quick and messy. To be invited by Vergil, softened by the storm and very much in his element, put Dante both at ease and on edge. That unbalanced feeling made Dante slow to accept the offer, but he did come around the couch and sat, albeit as far from Vergil as he could.

Petulant, thy name is Dante.

“I’m reading Milton,” Vergil said, forging ahead as though his twin wasn’t his own little black raincloud, inside the shop.

“I hate Milton,” Dante replied, because of course he would. “I figured you’d hate it too. Anti-Demon Propaganda or something, right?”

“Perhaps,” he relented. “But I find it still to be written well, for a human.” Dante felt like sneering, but even he thought better of it. This storm put him in such a bad mood, but put Vergil at such ease, that he almost felt switched and out-of-sorts. “Here, shall I read to you?”

Dante was surprised by the offer, but didn’t say no. He just shrugged, leaning against the opposite arm of the couch, his chin in his hand, his elbow propping himself up.

“Sure,” he said, ambivalent. “If it does something for you, I guess, sure.”

Vergil licked his lips, and seemed to take a small breath, both eyes returning to the page and passage.

“From this Assyrian Garden, where the Fiend saw undelighted all delight, all kind of living creatures new to sight and strange,” Vergil read. Dante rolled his eyes. Vergil had a good reading voice. He learned to read first, between the two of them, and until Dante conquered the skill, he had lorded that over him. Despite his boasting, however, Vergil had always chaffed whenever Dante asked him to read him a story. _All the stories you want to read are baby stuff!_ Was a refrain commonly heard through the shared nursery at Paradiso..

Dante was only half listening, allowing himself to space out, listening to both the steady, dulcet tones of Vergil’s reading voice and the steadier drumming of the storm outside, battering the windows and roof.

“Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall,” Vergil continued, unbidden by his little brother’s discontent. “Godlike erect, with native honor clad, in naked majesty, seemed lords of all, and worthy seemed, for in their looks divine, the image of their glorious maker shone..”

 _Maybe he was on to something,_ Dante thought, listening still to the rain, to Vergil’s soft voice as it read through Milton’s Lucifer, seeing Adam and Eve in the Garden for the first time. Vergil’s comment about catching a quick nap in the middle of the storm, was seeming better and better.

.. He wasn’t sure quite when it happened, but a clap of thunder brought Dante back aware. Dante squinted, eyes bleary, and found he was looking up at the shop’s rafters. At some point, he had laid down, his head resting on something too hard to be a pillow, yet with enough give to not be uncomfortable. He fussed, went sit up, but found a hand rested on his head, fingers twining in white hair and all tension left him.

Mixed again with the buzzing hum of the rain battering the windows and roof, and the distant thunder, Dante, half asleep, comfortable and calm despite his earlier tempest, heard his brother’s voice, soft enough to blend with the rain, but almost reverent as he continued with his poem..

“Some natural tears, they dropped,” Vergil muttered, hand absently petting at Dante’s hair as he settled again. “But wiped them soon. The world was all before them, where to choose their place of rest, and Providence their guide…”

Dante didn’t see it. His eyes had slipped shut again and, with an exhale, and the ghost of a smile as the tension left his shoulders hit his mouth. But Vergil wasn’t focused only on the foods written on the page, but his twin's sleeping face.

“They, hand in hand, with wandering steps, and slow,” Vergil continued, bending slightly, laying the whisper of a kiss onto his brother’s calmed brow. “Through Eden took their solitary way..”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are food for starving authors, and yours, my lovelies are always well appreciated. 
> 
> Some hate within the community lead me to take a brief hiatus, but how fun is it to be back and to be creating content for the people who really love it? 
> 
> As always, please feel free to make requests! I write for YOU!!


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